The Beast
by TyrantVian
Summary: .A tale as old as time, in the land where once was and will never be forgotten. Beauty and the Beast AU. USUK. Ratings will go up. Test fic.
1. Prologue

I don't own anything!

A/N:Hello there, this is my first fic in this new account. I was listening to The Beast, sung by Nano, composed by Spectacle-P, for the 5th time today and could not help but to do a Beauty and the Beast AU! Ahaha! I am sorry if my English isn't strong enough. It is not my first language.

This is a test fic, I will eventually delete this if it is no good or anything.

EDIT: THIS HAS BEEN EDITED.

**Ratings will go up, eventually.**

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**Prologue:**

Once upon a time, long ago in a kingdom of what once, and never to be forgotten. A land lush with vegetation. Birthplace of many folktales, and myths. The land where most would refer to the term of 'the grass is greener'. Happy citizens, fertile land, and healthy cattle. They lived an almost carefree life, it was everything that one could ask for.

There lived a prince in the castle on the hilltop. The castle that was made with marble, and stone. Flowers bloomed at every season. Small animals visited the castle's gardens occasionally.

However, the prince was selfish, dense, arrogant, very much of an ingrate, and cruel. He was blessed with a charming face, hair of the wheat-gold, eyes that reminded many of the glittering ocean. He had everything that he could wish for; a kingdom, ready to be taken over, butlers and maids at his disposal, and his nation had healthy alliances with the neighboring nation. Maidens fell for him left and right, unaware of his true nature.

The King and Queen pondered at when they had gone wrong with the boy. They eventually gave up though.

Monsoon months came along. An old lady came to the castle door, desperately looking for shelter as it stormed in the outside. She begged to the prince that she was to stay for the night, but the prince shook his head and sent the lady away out of disgust. Not even suggesting that she should stay with the horses.

Soon, this incident became a forgotten memory.

Years went by, the prince's behavior had gotten much worse. As the day that he was to be wed arrived, he only thought of the riches and kingdom that he would inherit. It was a wedding to strengthen the ties with a neighboring nation; a marriage that had no love. They were to be wed in the largest cathedral that their nation had. The King and Queen watched their only blood and flesh; their son, dressed by the maids in the finest silk with disappointment in their hearts.

Walking himself to the priest. The prince's future queen, walked down the isle with him. She had shoulder-length golden locks, her eyes were a minty-green that brimmed with innocence. She was dressed beautifully in satin and velvet.

The prince tuned out from the priest's speech due to boredom, and paid no attention to the maiden that he was to wed. Smiling only to the mere thought that he would be inheriting such great things when the title of 'King' would be bestowed on him later. It would not be hard to rule over a kingdom that his parents had already prepared for his rulership.

He snapped out from his trance when the princess before him had squeezed his hands lightly. Turning to the priest; he managed to catch the priest's question. "Do you take, Lili Zwingli, to be your beloved wife, your Queen, and your maiden for the afterlife?"

Opening his mouth, ready to say yes, he was interrupted by the sudden gusts of wind that parted the doors open. The cathedral grew dark; flames on every candle extinguished by the the winds. Invited guests fell into panic, children cried.

Heartbeat quickening with every second; anxiety and fear took over the prince's heart. No, no, no, this was bad. His kingdom. His riches. Sea-blue eyes focused on the being that entered the building. What was once clear-blue skies from the outside, now overrun by dark clothes. Thunder rumbled within them. A strong scent of rain wafted into the building.

The being wore a dark cloak. Shaky, wrinkled hands took a hold of their owner's hood, and slowly slid it off; revealing an elderly woman underneath. She was cursed with sadding, and liverspotted skin. Crow's feet at the corners of eyes, face hideous with the abnormal amount of large moles.

"Who are you to disturb this ceremonious day?" The King's voice boomed. Echoing off the building's walls.

"I, the Witch of the Wastelands, your highness," The witch had a toothy smile. Her tone laced with malice.

"Leave immediately!" The prince took this chance to assert authority and tried to shoo the witch away. The King flinched at the identity of the old woman, everyone knew that they should not insult a witch; the Witch of the Wastelands was no exception. Everyone but the prince of course.

"Silence, fool!" The King hissed at his own son. Watching his own blood and flesh jump, and he bit his own lip in distaste. The king turned back to the witch, knowing that she was offended by the lack of invitation and the prince's behavior.

"Save your words, my king," The witch then pointed to the wheat-colored blonde prince.

"He, who knows no love, only wishes to own the kingdom," She started, taking a deep breath. Soulless black eyes piercing the sea-blues, the prince suddenly remembered that it was the same woman that he had seen long ago, the lady that he had sent away during the heavy rain.

"I curse thee, to live for as long with the desire to consume a maiden's heart at every century with a beast's appearance," The witch cackled, and tapped her foot, vanishing into thin air as the spell took place.

What was left unsaid that the kingdom immediately fell into peril. Lands became barren in an instant. Flora immediately withered, animals and people alike fell dead. Winter was the only season of the land.

The prince screamed, and screamed. Burning sensation all over, horns protruded from the sides of his head, nails grew into claws, fangs replaced his canines, his pupils grew into slits. A lion's tail erupted from the prince's tailbone. The pain was so great till the prince himself had fainted, only to wake up within his room.

Alone.

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A/N: So sorry for making it so short, this is a test fic after all! I will come back and re-write if it you guys like it.


	2. Black Dogs

I don't own anything!

A/N: I see that people liked the story, and told me that I did not need to change it one bit. I am so happy! I hope you like the first chapter!

Based on: The Beast by Spectacle-P, Beauty and the Beast AU.

_**RE-EDITED.**_

**Warnings: Death.**

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**Chapter One : Black Dogs**

It was said that a hideous beast lived in the castle on the hill. Life never returned to the barren land of what once was the envy of many neighboring nations. It was said that every century, a maiden would go missing from villages that was built nearby. No one questioned the disappearances, many believed that the maiden was lured away by the Witch of the Wastelands that roamed about a millennium ago, some just brushed it off with couples eloping, and some just plain out did not care.

There had not been any cases with males yet though.

It was almost a thousand years ever since that myth started, children alike feared for the existence of the rumored beast. Villagers, old and young knew better than to stay out past dusk where a maiden is prone to disappear for the fear that they too, would be taken away.

"I'll slay it!" A young child graced with short blonde hair, confidence shimmering deep in emerald-greens. He smiled proudly, and placed his hands on his hips. Eyebrows thick, rivaling actual caterpillars. Determination laced in at the child's caretaker.

Orphans alike muttered about the kid's bravery, some sneered, some clapped, and some squealed in joy. The lady that took care of the batch of children she was assigned to, sighed, and patted the boy's head. A gentle smile plastered on her lips. Hazel-brown hair that reached the maiden's back, leafy-green eyes as gentle as a mother's, and she was blessed with porcelain-pale skin.

"There, there, Arthur," She gently spoke, removing her hand from the blond and closed the storybook about the Beast that lived in the castle. "Don't try it, I don't want you to get hurt," The lady frowned.

"I'll be fine, Elizabeta. I got magic on my side!" Arthur proudly stood his grown, getting a tad arrogant. That arrogance was then shattered by a light punch by a boy with long locks of gold. Deep blue sapphires stared at emerald-greens in disbelief in the short-haired blond.

"What'chu going to do? Scare them away wi' some glitter?" The longer-haired boy mockingly asked with a French accent, shaking his head at the other's childish dream to slay the great beast. Sure, he was older by two years, that made him the smarter one, right? Arthur was all too stupid to think of such a thing, with magic no less!

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed together, and his eyes were squinted comically before he took a hold a lock of the French orphan's hair, tugging it. "What was that, Francis? I am not the one that always run away whenever a fight happens!" Arthur snickered, and smirked at the French child that started to cry and whine, begging for help from their caretaker.

"That's enough, Arthur," Elizabeta huffed, taking a hold of the Arthur, the British orphan's hand and forced the child to let go. Francis thanked the lady with much joy, and tended to his messy lock of hair. Arthur merely rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. "Sissy," He mumbled, luckily it was gone unnoticed.

"Is the story true?" Another child piped up, Italian accent thick in his weak tone. Eyes of honey-gold stared up in worry, feather-soft lips in a frown. A lock of curled hair protruded from the side of the boy's head. Elizabeta merely giggled, and shrugged. "Better safe than sorry, don't stay outside after dark,"

"Of course it's not true, dummy!" An albino child that stood among them laughed, and patted the Italian child's back harshly, making the child cry out. Sadly he could not tell how strong he was patting the child's back. From the other side of the room, a brunet growled and stomped towards the German accented child.

"What did you call my fratello, Gilbert?!"He grabbed the albino's collar and tugged it close, only a year older than the Italian child, and the older brother to the child as well. He was highly protective and will not tolerate even a simple insult to his younger brother. It was cute.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, Lovino?" Gilbert leaned in, foreheads touching. He loved riling the more aggressive Italian up, it was fun to see how Lovino would react. His smile wider than ever.

"You want a fight?" Lovino asked loudly, and before Gilbert could answer, their caretaker chimed in. Rolling her eyes at the sight of them starting another fight. It was almost daily that Gilbert and Lovino would fight. It has gotten a tad boring, really. But at least Elizabeta knew how to handle them properly.

"Please, children. Don't fight. How about I read you a happier story this time before you go to bed?" She sweetly spoke, and parted the two kids. The two merely looked away and a pout graced their faces. Children that surrounded the lady immediately smiled, innocence in their eyes shining with all they had. Plentiful nodded furiously.

"Okay!" They said unison.

And so another night passed in peace.

* * *

Years passed, Gilbert and a few from the orphanage was adopted by families in the village. None chose the British child due to his use and knowledge of magic. Both a blessing and a curse, you could say that Arthur had his own work set out for them. Forever thankful of Elizabeta that took care of him, Arthur did not stop thinking about slaying the monster that lived in the castle on the hill. Much to the ex-caretaker's dismay. His belief in the story was strong as ever. He trained every day, eventually earning the title of a great wizard that slayed dragons, and goblins that threatened the village's peaceful days. Many referred to him for medicine, and he was given requests to slay whatever that troubles the neighboring countries as well.

Now at the prime age of twenty, he was fiddling around with his ingredients to make new medicine in one afternoon, occasionally staring out at the window at the castle's figure from afar. The land that was blanketed with snow, never to have any other season. He had no wife, nor any interest to find one. Village maidens, though beautiful; none was right for him. As much as they were determined to make Arthur theirs. His concentration was disturbed by a loud knock on the door.

He groaned in distaste, accidentally adding a drop too many of lizard tears into the concoction that he was slaving away all morning. The mixture that the test tube held bubbled, had let out a puff of smoke, before it was in flames. Of course the wizard then threw it on the ground, not caring that the sounds of glass shattering was heard by the visitor outside of his humble abode, and stomped till the fire was all out.

"Coming," He voiced out, hopefully it was not a customer, for he surely would have scared away by now. He walked towards the door, and opened it. Revealing to be Francis standing on his doorstep with the same smirk that he wore time to time when he was a child. Francis was now a dashing adult, a chef that was known throughout the land. It was lucky that Francis was adopted into a rich family that agreed to the ex-orphan's desire to cook.

"Oh it's you, what is it, frog?" Arthur glared at the Frenchman and the aura of superiority that the man had brought with him. He never really did like the man, not even when they were children. Though Francis was tolerable at times, but never always to his favor.

"Aw, is zat how mon cher refers to me, even all zis time?" Francis feigned hurt in his voice, dramatically clutching the cloth on his chest, but not hard enough to wrinkle his silk-woven clothes. Arthur merely rolled his eyes and turned his back

"Whatever, if you have nothing else to do, I'll be resuming my work," He said, ready to close the door behind him. Francis's hand quickly took a hold of the Brit's shoulder.

"Mon cher! You still believe in zat tale that lady Elizabeta had read to us long ago?"

"... Yes, what of it?" Arthur slowly replied, turning his head. Enough to see the Frenchman at the corners of his eyes.

"Don't go out after dark tonight, just giving you a precaution," Francis had dread in his tone. Sure, he was no believer, but if it really did happen. Boy, would it be a terrible thing to behold. He would never admit that he was a tad worried for the wizard, knowing how stubborn Arthur could be.

"Hah, I am no maiden, you blind fool. As if the Beast would be interested in me!" Arthur slapped the hand away and laughed.

"Better be safe than sorry, mon cher~!" Francis exclaimed before he turned on his heels and walked away. He did what he could, it was all up to the Brit now. Many would follow this advice, he hoped that Arthur would do the same.

"Better be safe than sorry my arse," Arthur mumbled to himself, closing the door behind him. He would slay the Beast, that he will do, no matter what.

No matter what.

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Dusk had washed over the land, crickets sung their tunes, the stars were bright, the moonlight lit the features of the village that was shrouded in darkness. Occasionally one would hear sounds and calls of small animals. It was quite comforting to hear such, really. It was peaceful, no wolves that will attack the village's cattle, no snakes that will eat the village's fowl, no bugs that ate their produce. It was a small village with a simple style of living.

None stayed out at night, as if it was not done everyday. No one really knew whether the myth was true or not, none dared to disobey or dared to be a sacrifice to the Beast. If there even was a Beast, that is.

That is, until tonight.

A couple giggled; they took midnight stroll to meet each other. Arthur was awoken by their sweet mutterings of love, the two were unaware that they were right outside of the wizard's fine home. The Brit mumbled his curses for the soon to be lack of sleep of the night. He was exhausted, but he could not disturb the two's little lovey-dovey moment. That would be unlike of a British gentleman, he had standards at the very least.

Arthur eventually managed to fall back to sleep, even with the sweet whispers that the couple had uttered constantly. The sleep was short lived as a loud scream came from the two that jolted the Brit awake. He sat up with haste, and dashed out his home to see what was going on. Villagers alike awoke to the couple's scream, holding candles and torches to light their way.

Arthur's eyes widened at the sight, the male was eaten alive by a pack of wolves. No, they did not look like wolves. They look like hounds, hounds shrouded only in darkness. Eyes of bright red glowed in the dark, glaring, piercing with emerald-greens. Arthur shed more light with his magic, a gentle orb of light in his hands.

It was a pack of Black Dogs[1].

Impossible, no one has seen the devil's hounds for so long. Why did they suddenly show up?

Arthur muttered incantations without a second to delay, in an attempt to save the man. The Black Dogs were, much to Arthur's dismay, were almost not affected by the wizard's magic.

"Help!" The girl cried, and was silenced by a Black Dog that pounced, and bit her neck. She struggled to break free, tears streaming down her face. Tonight was supposed to be every other night, nothing was supposed to happen. She wished that she had not ignored her parents' advice to stay in. Eventually, her body fell limp with a nasty crunch that came from her neck when the Black Dog had clenched its teeth harder.

The Black Dogs proceeded to retreat when one of Arthur's spells managed to work on them. They howled before scampering into the woods. One carried the maiden with them. And out of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, the Brit ran back into his home, got what he needed and followed the dogs. They had to be exterminated after all; to prevent such things to happen in the future, it was his role of being the great wizard of the Village of Spades.

With an orb of light following the dogs, Arthur was not far behind. Faint calls of the villagers to beg for the wizard to return and ignore the need to save the girl. He could barely make out Francis's voice among the wall of villagers that shouted for the Brit.

Minutes passed, minutes eventually dragged on with each step he took. Arthur was out of breath, "Where on Earth am I?" He looked around, moonlight barely lighting the forest's features. His shoes were dirty with mud and grime. Emerald-green eyes found the orb of light that tracked the dogs, and seemingly to have paused in its movement.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, slowing down, and took his time to walk. Noticing that it suddenly had gotten much colder. His teeth chattering, he took a hold of the shawl that he had brought along and wore it. Finally, he reached the destination. However he did not expect to be at the gates of the old castle that stood on the top of the hill. He gulped once, then twice. Putting his hand on the rusted gates, vines of dead plants tangled itself on the mentioned gates. With a deep breath of the icy cold air, and the soft sounds of snow being stepped on.

He took a step into the palace.

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A/N: How was it? I hope it was not bad. ;w; Please do review, I would love to hear you guys' opinion!

[1] Black Dogs: A black dog is the name given to a being found primarily in the folklores of the British Isles. The black dog is essentially a nocturnal apparition, often said to be associated with the Devil or a Hellhound. Its appearance was regarded as a portent of death. It is generally supposed to be larger than a normal dog, and often has large, glowing eyes.


	3. Heart-eater

I don't own anything!

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if my English is not all so good.

Based on: The Beast by Spectacle-P, Beauty and the Beast AU.

RE-EDITED.

**Warnings: Rating will go up eventually. Hints of cannibalism.(not really?)**

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**Chapter Two : Heart-eater**

Arthur took a step into the old palace that stood before him. Pushing the doors, world old doors creaked open. Furniture lay broken on the floors, those that were in good condition was covered by a sheet of cloth.

A thick sheet of dust covered the palace's interior. He found a trail of blood and paw-prints that seemed to go deeper into the castle. With haste, Arthur set aside the questions that surfaced in his mind and prioritized on saving the girl's life and followed it. Faint whispers preached the Brit's ears, somewhat the wizard felt someone was watching him. Was it just paranoia?

Going deeper into the building, Arthur found that many things were in bad shape; cracks at every nook and cranny, shattered windows gave an eerie feel to the castle. Arthur stopped when the trail ended. The girl laid on the floor, motionless and sprawled. Blood seeped out from the wounds on her neck. He checked for her pulse. Biting his lip when he found that it was incredibly weak. Without a second to delay, Arthur quickly went to her aide, whispering an incantation as light enveloped the girl's body.

Did the Beast really live here? Were the stories true? He had not seen any skeletons so far, so it cannot possibly be where the girls were abducted, but he could be wrong. The Black Dogs might have disposed of the bones. Questions alike surfaced in the Brit's mind, he shook his head to brush it off. The feeling of him being watched never did leave him.

Oblivious, a large shadow lurked behind the wizard. Eyes of the clearest blue glowed, almost striking in the darkness. The being took a heavy step forward, making its way towards the Brit. A soft screech of dragged nails present with every step. Arthur was too deep in thought to realize the being that was approaching him.

The being leaned in, and breathed heavily against the wizard's ear. Arthur finally took notice and froze; for fear had encased his heart. He prayed that it was not a Black Dog. No sound escaped the wizard's lips; the light that enveloped the girl had started to fade. Luckily she was healed enough.

"Who... _**are**_ you?" A rough voice came from behind before the being growled. It sounded as though it was not used often. Arthur remained silent; for fear had took a hold of his heart.

"I said, who _**ARE**_ you?" The being roared; causing the Brit to flinch. It sounded much more angrier than before.

Turning slowly, and very carefully. Arthur kept his head down before replying; "I am Arthur Kirkland from the village of the British Isles and Spades,"

"What are you doing to my prey, Kirkland?" Arthur clenched his eyes shut, and reopened them once more at the stern tone. The floor was horribly comforting at this very moment. He forced himself to speak once more, avoiding stutters and fear to lace his voice. Prey? What? Black Dogs don't eat people, unless it was not a Black Dog itself.

"I... am healing her... sir," Arthur replied weakly. The being growled loudly, and slammed its palm onto the floor. A slightly bigger one than Arthur's, it did not seem human either. Callous, and claws replaced nails. Arm hair was slightly thicker than any normal human being's. Arthur bit his lip at how sharp those claws were.

"Leave this place," The voice commanded.

"I am afraid that I can't do that, I must bring her back to the village," Attempting to be brave. The creature complemented its choices.

"Fine then, a trade it is," Arthur's eyes widened, though he dare not lift his head.

"I'll eat your heart instead," The creature laughed, seeing that the wizard had just waltzed into the deal. The being watched the wizard with curious intent.

"W-What?!" Arthur's mouth was left agape, whatever shred of confidence faded away at that very moment. Raising his head, he came into eye-to-eye contact with the being in front of him. It was certainly the rumored Beast that Lady Elizabeta had told him so much about. Arthur himself collected books about the creature during his time in the orphanage.

The Beast was not much of a monster, really. It was a man with fangs poking out of his lips, sharp teeth aligned perfectly and he possessed striking sea-blue eyes with pupils in slits. Wheat-blonde hair, a tad messy with a cowlick on the parting. A broken pair of spectacles sat on the bridge of the Beast's nose. Emerald-green eyes trailed down; taking note that the Beast wore clothes of royalty, though it was slightly tattered. A tail protruded from the back, and swished side to side. Large horns that resembled a ram's horns were placed at the sides of the being's head.

"You dare defy me? Hundreds of years of stupid, sniveling girls in love, it would be refreshing to eat yours instead," The Beast said, leaning closer. A sharp tongue poked out, and grazed against the wizard's cheek. Arthur shuddered at the touch of the wet muscle.

"You're not a scrawny one, I can feel strength in you. You would make a lovely meal," The creature grinned maliciously. Very excited for his new meal. Arthur lowered his head and bit his lip at the reminder of his life long goal. He began to whisper, almost inaudible to the Beast's ears. The Beast growled at the sudden mumbling.

"Speak up boy, what on Earth are you muttering?" The creature roared in the man's face. Arthur stayed firm and continue to utter the rest of the incantation; a ball of fire formed between the wizard's hands before flames lunged itself towards the Beast's stomach. It sent the being sliding backwards, the claws on his feet screeched as it grazed against the floor.

"Hah, you think a mere fireball could hurt me?" The Beast was getting excited, grinning much wider than before. Patting where he was hit, he extinguished the flames as if it was nothing. Arthur winced, eyebrows furrowed as the wizardly abruptly stood and positioned himself; ready to shoot more despite it being ineffective.

"I have come to slay you, Beast. It has been my goal since I was a child," Arthur exclaimed, a swirling ball of fire forming between his hands. His eyes brimmed with determination, shuddering when the Beast continued to smile.

"Try if you can. If you lose, your heart is mine," Arthur flinched at the nonchalant tone that the Beast had used. Still, making sure that fear was not present in his eyes, he continued;

"...Very well then. May I have a place to stay? I believe it would be unfair if you have fought me in a cowardly manner as I am dreadfully exhausted," He grinned himself, knowing from the stories how the Beast was. The wheat-color haired blonde paused, biting it's lip. Arthur watched as the Beast thought for a moment, bingo.

"...Fine, come with me," The Beast turned, his tattered velvet cape followed suit, giving the creature whatever shred of elegance the Beast had left. Arthur followed with a good distance separating them, his little fireball faded away as they walked.

Minutes dragged on. Arthur took his time looking around, not too far behind the Beast. The palace had an old Victorian cathedral theme to it. Gargoyles and broken statues lined up at the sidelines. Broken windows allowed snow to fall in, moonlight streaming in as the only source of light. An awkward silence filled the gap between the two. At every exhale, a small puff of mist came from their lips. Their footsteps echoed.

Passing by many doors, Arthur noted that the palace was incredibly large. What was supposed to be a garden from outside, had only winter flowers blooming. In the outside world, everything was covered with pristine white snow. The flowers continued to bloom despite the harsh winter, as if it was trapped; encased in time. Forever frozen.

From afar, he saw deers eating the bark of the dead trees that surrounded the castle. The rumored of the kingdom of what once was full of life, was nothing but lands and lands for miles to see.

Arthur's eyes wandered to the Beast, the man... or creature, an intimidating aura radiated from him. His velvet cape had feathers around the man's neck. He wore no shoes, the cuffs of his sleeves torn. From the back, aside the horns and the tail, the creature seemed human enough. However, as the story had mentioned, due to the creature's arrogance and selfish pride, he had lost everything.

That does not mean that Arthur would go soft on him, oh no. Especially as this.. this.. .**thing** had his eyes set on eating his heart!

Finally arriving at their destination, tall doors greeted the two in utter silence. The Beast opened the doors. Arthur cringed at the loud screech that came from the door's rusted hinges. The room was large, spiderless cobwebs at every corner. Dust was not as thick as the one in the main hall earlier. Wardrobes full of clothes in good condition; presumed that no moths were eating them away. The window was not shattered.

"Are you sure? This grand room?" Arthur asked, something was a little fishy, though he was not one to complain. His fingers clenched at the shawl that he wore to provide him little warmth. The Beast next to him rolled his eyes and replied,

"Unless you want to die in the morning from the sheer cold of the dungeons, go ahead,"

Arthur shook his head at the Beast's words.

"I'll bring you food. You're not allowed to leave the room unless you were told to," And with that, the Beast pushed the wizard into the room, and closed the door. Not caring whether the Brit had fallen face first on the ground or not. This would be easy, the Beast thought to himself. Dead easy. The wizard was clearly no match. An easy win.

The Beast's chest, where it was void of a heart, suddenly had a sharp pain passing through it, he growled softly and struggled to stand. Sea-blue eyes flickered into ruby-reds repetitively, he hushed his aching hard. Eventually the pain subsided. He needed to eat the man's heart soon, or else...

But something, something told the creature that with Arthur, Arthur, was it? Yes, the wizard around, something would change. He knew no wizard could break the curse that was bestowed onto him.

Why was Arthur any different?

Nonetheless he brushed off the feeling and disappeared into the hallways.

* * *

Arthur hissed when he had risen from a very painful fall; falling face first onto the floor. He turned his head, hands supporting him up. He watched as the Beast slowly closed the door and left him in the room all to himself. He patted the dust off from the bed, left his bag on the nightstand next to the bed, stripped himself of any clothing, and slid into the covers. Finding it in a good state, as if it was frozen in time for centuries. Sure, it was a little cold, but eventually it should warm up.

He had no family to return to, the villagers had half of a mind to worry about him. Probably in woe and tears that their little doctor had disappeared. He was feeling a tad homesick already, he could have been sipping some midnight tea and having a small snack in his home right now. But no, he had to follow his heart's desire and the duty of his title. Which ended him up in this place.

The wizard had no memories but only the sweet ones left over from his childhood, and his time in the orphanage. Lady Elizabeta was like a mother to him, boy must she be worried about him now. Arthur had let his thoughts wander around for a moment before sitting up. It was too cold!

Eying the two chairs neatly placed with the table that had a mirror on it, he wrapped the blankets around him and walked towards it. Dragging one of the to the empty corner of the room before breaking it apart.

With a short incantation, he lit the broken pieces of wood, and there it was, a beautiful bonfire that warmed him.

He sat there, and enjoyed the warmth that the flames had given him. He was exhausted, almost out of mana, and all so sleepy. He enjoyed it so much till he fell asleep. Letting himself fall into darkness with warmth surrounding him.

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A/N: How is it? Good? Bad? Please do review. uwu Now Arthur is in the castle, with the Beast nonetheless!. I bet you all could guess who the Beast is, ey? Ahahaha.


	4. Handkerchief

I don't own anything!

A/N:Hello! I see you guys liked the story since so many of you followed it. I am so happy! Thank you so much!

Based on: The Beast by Spectacle-P, Beauty and the Beast AU.

RE-EDITED.

**Warnings: Rating will go up eventually. Hints of cannibalism.(not really?)**

* * *

**Chapter Three : Handkerchief**

The very next day, after waking up from a dreamless night, Arthur fell into a false sense of panic. He looked around frantically at the room that he was in, eventually remembering the fact that he was living in a new home now. Blankets dropped to his thighs, cold air brushing against his skin. Revealing a rather slim figure; possibly from the fear of getting fat or the fact that he never ate much when he was a child.

Noticing a note by the door, Arthur dragged the blanket with him(it was freezing!). He wore it like a cloak, and approached the note with caution before snatching it away from the door as if it would hurt him, but that would be ridiculous.

Inspecting the note; Arthur grimaced at the horrible handwriting. It felt like it was written in a rush. Reading it till the very end, Arthur smiled at the fact that the girl had returned to the village without any problems though she had vowed to the Beast that she would not utter a single word about the Brit's reasons for staying. Arthur would be presumed dead; eaten by wolves while saving her.

Somewhat feeling betrayed, Arthur took in the fact that he could no longer return to the village. He could no longer return to his home, his usual routine, his tea, nothing. If he were to return, he would only cause an uproar and be chased out for being part of the undead, despite how much he had contributed to the village.

Walking back to the bed, he sat on the edge of it. He shuddered at the cold air that brushed his skin when he had let the blanket fall. Arthur sighed and stuffed the note into his bag. Only then he noticed that more than half, or practically all of his potions were deemed unusable due to the cold and very much in a frozen state. Great, just great.

Turning his head to the sounds of heavy footsteps from the door, emerald-green eyes dulled. He really did not want to see the Beast at all, only wanting to go home. But this place was his home now, or at least before his their match. Arthur gulped; throat dry. He would probably melt some snow for water later. It will have a bad taste, but it was still something. He could not complain to the Beast anyway.

Doors opening, the Beast dragged a dead bear with a single arm. Arthur stared in awe; how strong was the Beast in the first place? He really did not want to find out the answer to his question. Emerald-green eyes watched as the creature placed the freshly killed animal by the door. And for some odd reason, the Beast had stopped moving.

Arthur tilted his head; noticing that there was a pink tint on the Beast's pale cheeks.

"Put some clothes on, you're indecent!" The Beast hissed before he exited the room, embarrassed to see a half naked male. Surely he must have seen one before, right? After all, it... or he.. is a man... or was a man himself, right?

Arthur had found the situation to be slightly adorable. He blushed lightly at the fact that he technically caught the Beast staring at his slender figure before he fumbled around for his clothes, quickly wearing them back on. He presumed that the Beast was by the other side of the door, he called out, "It's alright now,"

The door creaked open slowly, the Beast peeked out from it; making sure that the wizard was no liar. The Beast pouted, Arthur resisted the urge to smile. Who would ever believe him if he had told somebody that the Beast was like a child? The Beast certainly seemed much more human now, unlike the day before.

Eyes wandered back to the fresh kill, Arthur flinched when he noticed that the bear's head was missing and there was a hole at where the heart was meant to be. Not wanting to become a meal himself; he suppressed the urge to ask the Beast about it.

It has been a day after all, the Brit felt a lot more stronger than the day before.

"For you have given me a place to rest, it is time for battle, is it not?" Arthur watched as the Beast grinned at that statement and took a step towards the wizard. The wizard gulped, his heart racing as he stood up. The Beast was overcome with disappointment when he saw Arthur stood up with unsteady feet. The Beast proceeded to sit back down, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Fool, you are still not at your peak. Eat," The Beast commanded, shoving the bear towards the Brit. Arthur nodded, and obliged. The wizard stared at the dead animal before biting his lip. Lips moving, he uttered an incantation. Flames visualized themselves from the bear, slowly roasting it. However, as almost all of his dishes; Arthur only stopped when it was burnt.

The Beast watched in awe that the wizard took the bear's burnt arm and bit onto it. A loud crunch came from the Brit's mouth, the Beast cringed and winced at every sound that came afterwards. It was really just that burnt.

"Is there a need to watch me eat?" Arthur raised a brow, pausing his meal. Every bite he took was small; he was an English gentleman after all. The Beast grinned mischievously, "Why can't I?" Arthur rolled his eyes and continued to eat.

Awkward silence had filled the air between them. Arthur's thoughts surfaced one by one in his mind; there were too many questions. His fear for the beast faded slowly; since the Beast seemed so much more human than the Brit had originally thought. Though it may be a foolish decision to let his guard down; he chose to go with it. At least for a little while.

"...Do you have a name? I can't possibly be calling you 'Beast'," Arthur quietly asked, making some sort of conversation. The Beast, tilted his head.

Name?

Oh yes, he had a name.

Centuries had he heard his name, he had almost forgotten his own name. The Beast hesitated for minutes; staying silent. Arthur was ready to give up from receiving the other's reply. Arthur bit his lip when he caught sea-blue eyes staring straight into his, inspecting him. Opening his mouth, he answered;

"Alfred. Alfred F. Jones,"

Arthur blinked, "Alfred..." He liked how the name rolled off his tongue. Immediately reminded of fields of golden rye, or at least something very lively.

"Prince Alfred then?" Alfred was aware that his tale was told to the neighboring lands. Alfred's eyebrows furrowed, fangs bared and he hissed at the name. It made Arthur drop the bear's hand that was almost free from flesh. Emerald-green eyes caught themselves staring back into slits, Arthur shuddered.

"I am not prince. I am nothing, but a monster," Alfred growled bitterly. It had been a thousand years since he had last heard of that honorific.

"Oh... I apologize-"

"I must go, watching you eat... makes me hungry as well," Alfred interruped the Brit and abruptly stood up. A fist clenched, razor sharp claws piercing skin as blood began to seep out from the wound. Sea-blue eyes stared at the Brit with murderous intent, Alfred licked his lips. The sharp pain that came from the hole where his heart was meant to be, telling him to ignore their deal and eat the Brit's heart.

Arthur gulped, "How about you have some? I … can't possibly finish this," Arthur gestured to the roasted bear. Alfred cringed and shook his head, obviously he was not going to eat that bear-shaped charcoal.

"Flesh could not satisfy my hunger, only your heart is what I desire," And with that, he left the room, slamming the door behind him. Alfred bit his lip, that was close. A little more and he would have lunged towards the Brit. The Brit's heart sounded so delicious; beating, pulsating, young, _**different**_. The ex-prince shook his head from those thoughts and forced himself to stop thinking of such thoughts where it only made him hungrier before he disappeared to the garden.

Arthur stared at the door, fear crept into his heart. That was close; he was about to become a meal himself.

* * *

Dusk was upon the land, Arthur awoken from his sleep and got his things ready. Peeking from the door; he found that none was there but a dark hall way. He took a deep breath, desperate to tell someone in the village that he was safe. Even to Francis, but gee that was desperate of him if he actually thought that the chef was an option.

Arthur took his time on walking; making sure that he made no sound. Wandering deep into the palace, a smile graced his lips when he saw some sort of exit; praying that it was the exit that he was looking for. He told himself repetitively, refusing to admit that he was lost. He would be able to return by sunrise if he was fast enough. Thoughts like these flooded his mind.

Approaching the exit with haste, he peeked outside of the exit. His mouth legt agape at the beautiful sight of white flowers that resembled water lilies that bloomed even at night. The garden was covered by a blanket of snow. A winter wonderland that was frozen in time. Though a little disappointed; he only found the garden, not the entrance. Arthur's eyes noticed white fluff that came from the above.

It was snowing.

Cracked fountains decorated the winter wonderland even more. Those that held water had fish, most presumably dead because the water was frozen solid. Emerald-green eyes eventually found a crouching familiar figure. He watched Alfred's tail swish back and forth. And time to time, Alfred would growl to no one, and scratch his head harshly. Howling too.

Since his escape plan had ended in failure; Arthur decided to walk back to his room. Minutes turned into hours, he could not make his way back to his room. Checking every room that he passed whether it was his; and found none were to be his. Great, he was lost, and he bloody disobeyed the Beast's only rule; not to leave his room unless he was told to.

"What to do...?" Arthur mumbled to himself. He did not notice that Alfred was right behind him.

"What are you doing out of your room?" Alfred stared at the wizard skeptically, fangs out. Subconsciously letting out a deep guttural sound. Arthur's mind raced, he needed an excuse.

"Oh, Alfred, I... was looking for the toilet," Close enough.

Despite the ex-prince was left alone for centuries, Alfred was certainly not the brightest as he believed the Brit's lie and nodded in understanding. The growling eventually settled down. Taking a hold of the Brit's hand, claws poking at the wizard's skin, "It's over there," Alfred tugged, and started to move.

Arthur followed, not too far behind. He cringed at how cold Alfred's hand was. It was like ice against his hand. The wizard bit his lip, hoping that the ex-prince would let go of his hand soon. Minutes passed, Arthur's hand was now numb. How long did Alfred spend by being in the garden anyway? Right, as if he could ask.

Finally reaching their destination, Alfred pointed at the end of the hall, " Your room is there, and the toilet is here," He moved his hand, and pointed at the door in front of him.

The building has an incredibly confusing floor map, but Arthur could not complain.

Nodding, he uttered a soft 'thank you' before he entered the bathroom. And when he came ut, he was surprised to see that the Beast was waiting for him. Arthur held his breath, eyeing Alfred's injured palm and tried to take a hold of his hand.

"What are you doing, peasant?" Alfred snapped at the Brit, and pulled his hand away.

"Just let me see them," Arthur's voice was stern, like a mother's. The Beast paused for a moment; not all too sure that he should trust the wizard just yet, but he obliged anyway. He slowly showed the wizard his hand. Arthur winced at the sight of pierced skin.

"You'll get an infection if you don't cover this up," Arthur cursed himself for being a healer at his work too. He fished in his pockets, and took out a pristine-white handkercheif before he wrapped it around the Beast's hand like a bandage. He sighed, he was going to miss that.

He found that Alfred's hand was slightly bigger than his, and much more masculine too, aside from the claws. Arthur cursed once more at how feminine he looked.

After he had tied a knot to secure the handkercfhief in place, he awkwardly gestured that he would return to his room.And all Alfred could do was stare at the wizard in confusion before staring at his bandaged hand for the longest time.

"... Thank you,"

* * *

A/N: Ohoho, it won't be long soon! Eventually they'll be awkward little dorks to each other. Please do review!


	5. More than a memory

I don't own anything!

A/N: Aaaaah. I am so glad that I came back to writing fanfiction. ;w; I am so glad to see many of you liked the previous chapter!

Based on: The Beast by Spectacle-P, Beauty and the Beast AU.

**Warnings: Rating will go up eventually. **

* * *

**Chapter Four : More than a Memory**

Days passed in almost in a similar manner. A routine, really. Arthur would always attempt to escape when dusk arrived and parted them for bed. But always, always Arthur would always end up finding Alfred sitting on that very same spot in the garden, looking frustrated. Wearing nothing but the same clothes that Arthur would have seen the man wore for earlier parts of the day.

And every time when Arthur managed to break off from the trance of observing the ex-prince, and returning his room when he realized that it was too late for him to escape. Alfred would always catch him outside of his room. Arthur used the same excuse every time, and Alfred believed him.

During the day, Arthur would try to make small talk with the Beast; since he had no other company. They would talk about simple things; like the weather, and avoided topics like the curse. Arthur feared that he would reopen old and forgotten wounds. The wizard eventually got to enjoy Alfred's company, words could not really describe it.

Alfred was a prince in heart, a little greedy, and certainly commanding as one, but he was like a child that never grew up though he was mature enough at certain things. That maturity was what opposed all of the stories that Arthur was told of. Maybe it was the time that Alfred had spent alone that changed him.

Arthur also learned that Alfred was desperate for attention. They never got around to their promised battle; fading into a forgotten memory with each passing day. Maybe it was the fear that their little talks and conversations would be numbered.

Biting the bullet, today was the third month in counting that Arthur stayed in the castle. Arthur noticed that Alfred was watching him eat again. The Brit gulped, Alfred was not planning to eat him, right?

"How about you have some?" Arthur offered a less-burnt leg of the deer that Alfred had caught and killed the day before. Luckily Alfred learned to tear his kill into pieces so that Arthur would have an easier time cooking and eating them. He stole herbs and vegetables from farms close by so Arthur would not suffer from malnutrition. Despite how much the wizard would chide him about stealing, the Beast would do it anyway. He would do anything to keep his only source of company and probably his only friend alive.

Alfred hesitantly nodded, took the roasted leg into his hands and bit into it. It was crunchy, but not badly burnt. Not enough to send the creature away with a stomachache at least.

They sat in silence, the wizard listened in at every sound that Alfred made while he was eating. The sounds of wood breaking in the small bonfire that Arthur had made was comforting. They enjoyed the warmth that it gave. Despite the awkwardness creeping back into the atmosphere, Arthur continued to eat until he found something to talk to the Beast about.

"Do you miss your home?" Alfred suddenly brought up the topic, sounding... heartbroken. Arthur jolted at the truth of the answer to it. Yes, he actually did. Emerald-green eyes shifted, the Beast was staring at him. Waiting. Waiting for his answer.

"I can't leave you now, can I?" Arthur answered simply, biting his lip before he smiled and continued to eat. He felt as though Alfred knew of his answer anyway, with that gaze especially.

Minutes passed, Arthur placed the bones onto the floor. He rubbed his belly, stuffed. They continued to sit in complete silence before Alfred decided to speak up. "Can I learn more about you?" He sounded a little timid. Arthur tilted his head, and blinked. Nodding, no one had asked about learning more about him before. It felt like it was sort of an honor.

"Well, I am an orphan," Arthur started, biting his lip. Every orphan in his village was adopted except for him. Alfred nodded and waited for the Brit to continue. The wizard revealed a lot about his life, especially his childhood. He told Alfred of his time in the orphanage, how much fun he had in the place and how being an orphan had its downsides. He gradually learned that he was unwanted by his father due to the fact that Arthur had killed his mother during birth because of his high levels of magic. He was not taken by any family in the village due to the fact that everyone believed that he had cursed his father and led him to his death.

When he was younger, he did not have much control of his magic. He was hated by the village. Children alike would always throw rocks at him, calling him a freak too, but the kids in the orphanage would always try to protect him. They were like family.

The only person that he could really call his mother would be Lady Elizabeta, his caretaker. She was supportive, and kind-hearted. She disciplined him when it was necessary. She was married to a musician in a neighboring country which Arthur could not remember the name of.

Arthur wanted to ask whether he could learn more about the ex-prince, but he never got around to asking. Emerald-green eyes watched Alfred's tail swished side to side in interest to Arthur's past. It was a little sad, the villagers were cruel to him. It was the first for Alfred to hear such things. Maybe he was just naïve, since his kingdom was free of such things. His people would have appreciated the Brit if it did not fall into peril a thousand years ago.

Eventually, Arthur's tales came into an end. Back into the awkward silence.

Alfred surprisingly, had an idea in mind. He stood up first, and took a hold of the Brit's petite hand. Tugging it, gesturing that Arthur should follow him. The wizard obliged without any complaint, only asking unanswered questions about where they were going.

"Do you like books?" Alfred had asked the obvious. The wizard certainly adored reading. Arthur remembered that Alfred had seen Arthur carried a spell book around him once, and the ex-prince did watch Arthur practicing his spells too. Arthur mumbled, "...yes?" Perfect, this was a nice gift, Alfred barely contained his excitement.

" Then you'll love this," The ex-prince said, sounding much happier than before. The palace was huge, it took them minutes to reach where Alfred was taking him. Alfred stopped in midway when he noticed that they were close to their destination and turned to the Brit.

"Can you close your eyes? Until I say it's okay to open them?" Alfred tilted his head. Sea-blue eyes beady, pupils dilating and his pleading was obvious in them. Arthur furrowed his brows, and obliged anyway.

Closing his eyes, Alfred took a hold of the Brit's hands once more. Taking their time in walking. Alfred's hands slipped away from the Brit's to push the doors to the room he had in mind open. A loud screech echoed against the walls.

With haste, Alfred lit the torches up one by one. Lighting up the room before he returned to the Brit where he grabbed a hold of the Brit's hands once more and gently pulled the wizard inside. "Almost there," He said.

Alfred stopped again, and slid out from Arthur's hands. With a smile, he said;

"Now,"

Arthur opened his eyes.

His mouth was left agape at the beautifully lit room that he was in. Tall shelves surrounded him. Shelves that held books was enough to last him for numerous lifetimes. Books, just ready for him to take out and read. It was almost not surprising though, compulsory for every castle. No matter, it was truly the greatest gift that anyone could have given him.

"It's yours now," Alfred quietly added, lowering his gaze while shuffling his feet. He looked up occasionally to see the Brit's reaction.

Arthur's pride had to pitch in at this very moment. Alfred, knowing not to take the Brit's words literally, smiled when Arthur replied; "Not bad, but..."

rthur turned to the ex-prince with the warmest smile that sparked something within Alfred, something that made Alfred blush. He was happy that he pleased the Brit, even if it was something so small.

"Thank you,"

* * *

The two spent hours in library, with Arthur reading the ex-prince stories like Romeo and Juliet, which Alfred found it to be ridiculous and they even had a little fight about it. Nothing serious, but Alfred had found the story to be just, no.

Arthur eventually found out that Alfred had forgotten how to read, or perhaps that the ex-prince never learned how to read in the first place. But of course, with whatever pride that Alfred had left, would not admit that, if it was true of course. Arthur spent hours on teaching, and guiding the ex-prince on pronouncing the words correctly. Arthur's blood would not let the ex-prince have a single mistake, his pride as an Englishman was on the line.

Dusk arrived, for some reason, the wizard and the Beast had felt that they have gotten closer for what had happened during the day. The two parted their ways, with a bid of goodnight from each other. Alfred was more human than Arthur had thought initially. But alas, Arthur shrugged off the feelings that crept into his mind and heart as foolishness.

Alfred's urges became much stronger by the passing day, but the Beast subdued it by hurting his hand repetitively. He kept the handkerchief, now stained with brown dots due to Alfred's constant self harm to his hand. He had no heart, he could not hold emotions. He could only remember how it was like. He could remember how to be happy, he could only remember how to be sad, he could only remember.

Why was it with Arthur that he felt that his emotions were more than a mere memory?

Hours passed, dusk had completely enveloped the land. It was incredibly late, from what anyone could guess when they had a dead watch. Arthur was hesitant, he eventually learned of the floor map of the building itself. He had found the entrance the other night too, but he returned to his room and there was where he was caught. Sure, he wanted his old life back ,where he could sip some Earl Grey in the afternoons, loving his job and sometimes calling it a hassle at time, and sleep in the comforts of his own home and bed.

Arthur stood at the gates, shawl moving along the light chilly wind that seemingly to have gotten much colder at every passing second that Arthur spent standing. He was deep in thought, and his train of thought was interrupted by a voice behind him which Arthur failed to understand due to how soft it was. A voice that sounded so sad, only can be uttered from the lips of the crestfallen, Arthur turned.

He turned and saw that he was caught by the ex-prince that did not seem to be enraged to why Arthur was all the way outside, at the gates especially. Arthur forced himself to be eye to eye with Alfred, the ex-prince was certainly heartbroken(if he had a heart), but he just stood there, not even attempting to pull the Brit back, and question him why that he wanted to leave. The only words he had uttered were,

"... You're leaving?"

It took Arthur a minute to process those words, he felt his heart ache at the nature and tone of those words. The Brit shook his head and moved towards the ex-prince, hand on the Beast's hair, ruffling it.

"I wish, but I can't leave you here all alone now, can I?"

* * *

A/N: How was it? Please do review, I would love to hear your thoughts!


	6. Home is where the Heart lies

I don't own anything!

A/N: AAAAAAAAH. So many of you loved the story and told me that I was a skillful writer! I can't thank you enough! I was so afraid that since English was not my first language, you guys would give up on the story. Ahaha! Thanks so much again!

Based on: The Beast by Spectacle-P, Beauty and the Beast AU.

* * *

**Chapter Five : Home is where the Heart lies**

Months passed, Arthur had caught himself gazing out the window much longer than the last. The village was right beyond the forest. His home was right there.

Arthur sighed. He could not help but the admit that he was homesick.

This day would be the seventh month of Arthur's stay. It was not that Alfred was bad company or anything. He missed his daily routine that he had back home. Reasons unnamed, the ex-prince had started to ask for some alone time. The wizard did not question him for as he only nodded. Ignoring the questions that popped up in his mind. He also pushed away the possibility of Alfred avoiding him on purpose.

Their conversations became shorter. They could no longer talk for hours like they used to. Alfred would now constantly lock himself in his room for hours. Arthur could no longer find the ex-prince sitting in the garden at night either. Escaping would be terribly easy, but the thought of Alfred going back into the days of being completely alone and trapped in the castle were the only things keeping Arthur from doing so. Why did Alfred affect him so much? Was it because he was a friend to him now?

Wait a minute.

Friend?

When did he started to refer Alfred with that?

Arthur shook his head and continued to hug his knees for warmth. Lowering his gaze to the flames in front of him. It was not so cold anymore. The sun finally made its appearance for the first time upon the castle in a thousand years. Even rain had started to visit them time to time. Of course, the snow was still there, as if it was unable to melt away. The temperature outside was still chilly, but better than the first few months of Arthur's stay.

Arthur turned to the window, biting his lip. There he was, gazing at the outside world again.

He was gazing at his home.

Alfred noticed.

Alfred noticed so many times that Arthur had started to stare blankly at the window. At first, Alfred had thought that Arthur wanted to take a stroll and stretch his feet. However, when he did bring the Brit outside, he would always stare at the forest. Alfred's smile faded away at the realization of where Arthur truly wish to be. He did try to distract the Brit with snowball fights, and with games that involved snow. It did work for a while, but he caught Arthur staring at the forest again; at the direction of where his home was.

Alfred sighed.

His urges had made him isolate himself from the Brit more often now. As if he would tell the Brit of his situation and the reason why he had been locking himself in his room. The curse constantly reminded the Beast that he needed to consume a heart soon or else it would be the end.

Alfred could have summoned his pack of Black Dogs and order them to capture another maiden by nightfall. But he never got around to actually doing so.

Alfred continued to sit next to the Brit in complete silence. He pondered whether his next decision was for the best or not. Arthur had taught him so many things, told him so much about the outside word and made him feel things. His emotions, though they were only of a memory, certainly felt as real as they could be. Arthur made him feel as though he had a heart again

Alfred bit his lip. If Arthur was happy, he will be happy too.

"You can go home,"

Even if suicide was the answer.

Alfred could never forget that dumbfounded look that Arthur had. He could never forget that smile that Arthur had afterward. He could not forget the sight of the Brit fading into the forest. He could not forget him at all.

Dark clouds covered the once clear blue skies, and it started to snow heavily too. It started to blizzard upon the land, Alfred stayed in his room and remembered a quote that his parents always told him; _"If you truly love something, let it go. If it loves you back, it'll come back,"_

He had no hopes for Arthur returning. His curse was forever. The witch never told him the cure to his curse. He was doomed from the very start. After all...

Who would love a monster like him?

* * *

Arthur sipped his afternoon tea in absolute bliss. Nothing changed ever since Arthur left, his home still intact. He spend multiple nights drinking, and partied in celebration of his return. The village was amazed by his return, and Arthur explained what had happened in the castle. Leaving out many things like their relationship, though it was platonic(or so what he thought). Many was in disbelief of his story, but nonetheless had nothing else to believe in.

It was great.

He had his home back, he had his friends back, he had his work back, he had his bed back, he had his tea back, he had his routine back.

He had his life back.

Arthur slid under the bed sheets, exhausted from the work he had. Arthur fluttered his eyes into a close, falling fast into the land of slumber. Unlike most nights; he had begun to dream.

A familiar tuff of wheat-blonde hair visualized in his dream, and a pair of sea-blue eyes that brimmed with innocence came into view. Arthur found himself standing in what seemed to be a much brighter, and cleaner version of the castle hallway. It was how it should be, walls made of white and gold marble, velvet curtains hung from the above, the skies beyond the windows blue without a single cloud.

Arthur realized that he had no voice within the dream, and those he touched could not feel him. His hand would just slide through. But no matter, it was just a dream. Nothing important. Might as well enjoy what his mind had made up.

The scenery changed into a room; where Arthur had watched the child with wheat-blonde hair playing with his toys. Alone.

Arthur tilted his head, the boy was playing with a wooden toy car seemed awfully familiar. He jolted when the child turned his head, looking at his direction. Those eyes. He had seen them somewhere before. Those piercing, glittering, sea-blue colored eyes. Was... was the boy, Alfred?

How on Earth did his mind made a child Alfred? He had never seen anything that resembled Alfred when he was younger. There were no portraits that survived time; all eaten away by termites. There were no paintings in the castle. There were no documented photos too.

Somehow, he did not feel that this was so much of a dream anymore.

Arthur nervously bit his lip as the child continued to stare at his direction. It felt like the boy was staring at him, though it was impossible. The boy proved him wrong when the child had stood up, and walked towards him. The child reached out and grabbed the wizard's hand, much to Arthur's shock.

"Who're you, mister?" Alfred asked him with a tilt of his head. Arthur noticed that Alfred still does that; that little tilt whenever he had a question for the Brit. A smile forced its way to the Brit's lips, and he gestured with his free hand that he could not speak.

"Oh.. .you're mute, I apologize," Alfred lowered his head out of embarrassment. Arthur shook his head, and patted the boy's head. The child paused, and thought for a moment. An idea came into his mind, he clapped his hands and said; "Wait here," And ran to his toy box; pulling out a blackboard and a box of chalk. Arthur caught on fairly quickly. He ran back to the Brit, and plopped down onto the floor. Patting the space next to him. Arthur nodded, and obliged the offer. Alfred then passed him the blackboard and an unused chalk,"My name's Alfred. What's yours?"

Arthur took the board into his hand, and the chalk in another and begun to write his name down.

"A.R.T.H.U.R" Alfred spelled it out loud as he read. The child smiled warmly, and added; "Cool! Arthur's a pretty name!" That made the Brit blush a little. Alfred was awfully different than what the stories had told him. Alfred was meant to be spoiled, even as a child, but here he was; being the sweetest child that the one could offer.

The two spent hours communicating by using the blackboard. They eventually came close into using up all of their chalk when they had a drawing battle. Arthur started to grow weaker by the passing minute. It took him more strength to write and draw now. After his hand had grown translucent, Arthur realized that he was beginning to fade.

The look on Alfred's face was something that he could never forget. That look of pure sadness. Surely Alfred had friends that he could play with, right? He must have only caught the prince on one of the days that he was alone, right? It was not like the prince had only himself... right?

Alfred grabbed a hold of the man's sleeves, tugging it as he shook his head. Tears streamed down his glossy eyes. All Arthur could do was watch. Alfred crying, and sobbing that eventually became mute to Arthur's ears. The world around the wizard broke away bit by bit. And before the Brit faded completely, he could have sworn that Alfred mouthed to him; "Don't leave me alone,"

The next thing that Arthur realized was he stood in a corner of a rather large cathedral. Beautifully painted windows, wooden floors with a red carpet that was stretched out till the entrance. Walls made of white stone, and the seats were white(were they not meant to be brown?). Arthur looked around even more. One by one, people started to visualize themselves. A priest stood between a maiden with gold colored locks, and a familiar prince. Guests of many races sat according to where they were from.

It was a wedding.

Arthur awkwardly just stood there, biting his lip. He watched Alfred hold the girl's hands(though for some reason, he felt a little jealous). The priest continued to recite the wedding vows whileAlfred looked completely bored out his mind, eyes not focusing on the bride at all. Arthur froze when Alfred turned to the Brit, unlike anyone in this dream. Sea-blue eyes widened slightly and were laced with confusion. Arthur hesitantly waved his hand.

Alfred looked away.

And before Arthur could react to that, the doors were barged open. Strong winds came from the outside, accompanied by the smell of rain. Candle light within the building was wiped all at once. Thunder rumbled in the clouds outside. Everyone started screaming, and children started to cry. Everything went dark, whatever light from the outside barely lit the cathedral.

It all happened too fast, Arthur was immobilized. Frozen in his state. He could only watch Alfred turned into a monster in front of him before the world had turned dark once more.

He could not tell how long he had spent drifting in the darkness. Perking his head up a little at the soft whispers that surrounded him. Arthur looked around, he could not see anything at all. He gritted his teeth, and covered his ears. The attempt failed, the voices were in his head instead. Whispering words that Arthur could not catch until the one sentence that jolted the Brit awake.

"Give up your heart, and receive another's,"

Arthur sat up in his bed, heavily panting with cold sweat running down his forehead. Crickets sung their tune from the outside of his home. He looked around; everything was in place. No child, no witch, no monster, no nothing. Just him, and his house. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. It had all been a dream. However, he could not help but to feel that something was off. He turned, got off the bed, and grabbed his things. He had left a note on the table before he had head out to the castle where the Beast lived in.

It took hours just to walk to the castle. Was it just him or was it much colder than the first time he had arrived in the castle? Icy wind felt like needles pricking his skin, Arthur had found it a little hard to breathe. He could not slow down, he had to make sure that Alfred was alright. Arthur eventually collapsed within the forest from the sheer cold, trying his best to keep his consciousness.

Black Dogs visualized themselves in front of the Brit. They looked like normal bloodhounds now. Arthur wanted them to stay away as a single touch would kill him, but the cold was sapping away his consciousness. He could not move, he could only watch as the dogs approached him before he fell into unconsciousness.

When Arthur came to, he had found himself in his room in the castle once more. The Brit shakily got off the bed,. Looking a little desperate as he ran out from his room and into the hallways. He looked left and right, trying his best to find the Beast's room before he realized that he had never been to it.

Stopping in his tracks, how could he be so stupid. It was a blind man's path at this point. Arthur thought for a moment, and remembered that he had seen the door to the younger Alfred's room. His feet had begun to pick up the pace once more.

The smell of smoke eventually reached the Brit. Though confused, Arthur followed the scent and found the same door in his dream. Before Arthur could manage to open the door, and find the source of the smell, the ground beneath the Brit shook as a loud inhumane roar came from the room. It almost sounded terrifying.

The door was slammed open to reveal Alfred on all fours. His clothes tattered and his sea-blue eyes were replaced with ruby-reds. Smoke leaked out from the creature's mouth, fangs much larger than normal. His claws became part of his hands, his tail clean of all fur, and was replaced with black scales. Pupils were in slits, staring straight into Arthur's with murderous intent.

Something told the Brit that this no longer was the Alfred he knew.

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A/N: Sorry if this was a little rushed. I'll be busy for the next few days. Please do review!


	7. Spark

I don't own anything!

A/N: Sadly this story is coming to an end very soon. I am so sorry that this chapter was a little short too. :c I am so glad that you guys loved it though, and told me such wonderful things about it! Aaah!

Based on: The Beast by Spectacle-P, Beauty and the Beast AU.

* * *

**Chapter Six : Spark**

Arthur panted heavily, his vision was blurry. His head barely registered where Alfred was. The cut above his forehead seeped out blood that blinded the Brit. Shakily standing up, Arthur hissed from the sharp pain that came from his wrist. Fuck it all, he probably sprained it. Worst case scenario; it was broken.

The ex-prince was on all fours; growling and hissing at the wizard. Alfred roared, fire escaped from his throat. Arthur barely dodged the flames that burned the walls of where he once stood. Smoke came from the Beast's nostrils. His claws covered with a thin coat of blood. The creature barely suffered the cuts and burns that Arthur had given him from self defense.

Arthur could hardly believe that this was Alfred. What on Earth happened while he was gone?

Knowing that the wizard could not last long in this situation; since he was obviously losing the battle. Arthur had to think fast. However, at the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white that headed his way. Arthur's eyes widened, and jumped to a side; dodging the Best's tackle.

Arthur did not see the small shard of glass when he dodged Alfred's tackle, and slipped on it. His back landed painfully onto the ground. Knocking his head onto the floor as well, a numbing pain came deep within it. Arthur was barely able to keep his consciousness now. Arthur knew he had to get up, but the world around him twisted and turned.

A heavy weight was placed on the Brit. Arthur could barely register the being that was on top of him. He hissed when Alfred had moved to reposition himself; gently brushing against a bruise on his ribcage. Arthur raised his hand in an attempt to launch a ball of fire towards the feral creature, but Alfred took a hold of it and slammed it back down onto the ground with great strength. A nasty cracking sound came from it. The wizard clenched his eyes shut, and muffled his scream. Tears seeped out from the corners of Arthur's closed eyes. It was definitely broken now.

Alfred let out a deep groan from desire and want at what lies just behind the ribcage. He was so close to the beating, warm heart.

"Alfred, please stop,"

Alfred flinched. A familiar scent perched his senses.

"Alfred,"

That voice.

"Stop,"

Who's was it?

Arthur quietly moved his hands past the Beast's grip, and eyes. Positioning them carefully, he took the chance to shoot gushing water at the creature's stomach; sending him flying backwards. Alfred growled in pain when he knocked his head against the wall. The wizard then shakily got back onto his feet, and continued to mutter words of an incantation. A force field then surrounded the Beast.

Alfred was enraged. He roared from the boiling anger that came deep within from his current state. Flames spewed out from his mouth in an attempt to burn his way out of the translucent force around him. Claws scratched against the force; rendering them blunt, His attempts to break free were to no avail.

The wizard slowly moved himself towards the trapped creature. Eyes clenched shut in fear of the force field breaking. Arthur swallowed the nasty bile in his throat, and opened them once more to find himself a meter away from the other. Arthur mumbled another spell under his breath; chains made of similar hue wrapped themselves around the Beast, immobilizing him.

Arthur bit the bullet and reached out with his only good hand. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Bracing himself as the creature shook his head violently, and growled at the approaching hand. Arthur bit his lip, and stayed silent at the searing pain that came from his hand. Alfred had bitten deep into the wizard's flesh. The wizard dared not move, for he only waited. Blood began to stream down from the punctured skin.

The two remained in the same position for minutes. Eventually Arthur had felt the fangs slowly remove themselves. He still dared not to open his eyes, for in fear that his control on the ex-prince had been lost. The creature had stopped growling, only silence greeted him.

"Arthur?" Alfred's voice sounded rough from all of the howling, and roaring he had done earlier. Arthur's heart leaped at the call of his name, he hesitantly opened his eyes once more. Emerald-greens immediately found themselves staring back from confused sea-blues.

Arthur smiled warmly. Those were the same pair of eyes that Arthur knew. The force field and chains had faded at his will; releasing the Beast. He was glad that Alfred had returned back to normal. Fatigue had however caught up on the Brit, and made him unsteady on his feet. His smile faded, the world around him twisted and turned. All he could hear was faint calls of his name before his world grew dark.

"_Give a heart, receive another's,"_

He could not tell how long he was asleep, but when he had awoken. He found himself in his old room in the castle. Arthur hissed at the pain that coursed throughout his body. Muscles aching, his stomach growled, and his injuries stung hard.

Arthur tried to heal himself, but he realized that his right wrist was broken and piercing pain that came from it when he had attempted to move it made the Brit flinch. After a minute or two, he brought out his only good hand from under the covers. He noticed that it was bandaged by the handkerchief that he had given Alfred long ago. It made his heart warm at the thought that Alfred had kept it. Arthur always assumed that the ex-prince had thrown it away because he had stopped wearing it at one point.

Mumbling the words of an incantation, he used up all of his mana to heal most of his injuries. Arthur heaved a sigh of relief when most of the pain had went away from his body. The only things that were left unhealed were only his cuts, and some bruises. His wrist could use some time on its own too. Completely exhausted, Arthur let himself fall back onto the bed. Taking in the sweet comfort from the soft bed. His eyelids fluttered into a close; ready to fall back into the depths of slumber.

Knocks came from the door of the room which jolted the Brit awake. He turned his head, not having enough energy to sit up. Opening his mouth, "Come in," His voice was incredibly weak, his throat was dry.

Knowing who the being was behind the door. Emerald-greens watched the door opened slowly with Alfred hesitantly peeking in like a child that has broken his mother's favorite vase. The Brit smiled faintly at the other that dared not approach the wizard. Arthur patted the edge of the bed with his only good hand, but he flinched when his aching muscles gave him a piercing pain. Arthur tried his best not to show it, and continued to smile.

"Do.. do you need anything?" Alfred timidly asked. Arthur turned his entire body (despite how much it had hurt for doing so), and laid on his side to face the ex-prince. Arthur nodded weakly, and mouthed 'water' for he had no voice to use anymore. Alfred nodded, and scurried out of the room.

Minutes passed, Arthur watched the door. Eyelids drooping once more. He was ready to fall asleep, but Alfred had returned with vase full of river water. Arthur weakly sat up, and took the vase into his hands. Using his legs to support the large pottery, and he started to drink. It was cold, but that was what made the relief from being incredibly dehydrated so much sweeter. When Arthur was done, at least half of the vase had been emptied. The Beast quietly placed the vase on the floor, fairly close to the bed.

Alfred was ashamed of himself; for letting his urges get the better of him. For turning him into such a monster. The state that in Brit was in, it was all of his fault. He was nothing, but a monster, inside and out. There was no excuse for his actions. Lowering his head out of guilt and indescribable feelings of disappointment for himself. Arthur's hand gently cupped his cheek was what broke the train of thoughts. Lifting his head up once more, Alfred froze at the sight of Arthur staring straight at him with that same smile. That same, warm smile.

"I-"

"It's alright, Alfred," Arthur interrupted him. Alfred frowned heavily, and shook his head.

"It's not alright! You almost died, and it's because of me and-" Alfred protested, but he was silenced by Arthur's hand on his head. Somehow, a tinge of nostalgia had gently brushed over the ex-prince's senses. Arthur patted the creature's head like he did back in the dream, before he slowly moved away from the locks of hair, and cupped Alfred's cheek once more.

"You were not yourself, so don't blame yourself so much," Arthur weakly smiled, coughing a little. He needed more rest, but he tried his best to stay awake. Alfred bit his lip, pausing for a moment. The wheat-colored blonde's hand moved towards his chest where it was void of his heart; where the curse was casted.

"But it's part of me, this... this... thing," Alfred bitterly gestured to where his heart was meant to be. The shirt he wore was incredibly tattered from the fight they had earlier on. There were scratch marks, and scars from Alfred's self harm on his chest that never went away.

".. What?" Arthur looked at him, confused. Alfred sighed, and swallowed the nasty bile in his throat. Adding what he tried to avoid from doing so in the first place.

"I need to eat a heart, Arthur,"

There was a pregnant pause.

"... Oh,"

Arthur had no idea what to respond to that. Alfred had to eat his heart. Simple as that. But if Alfred had eaten his heart, he would die and that was probably the reason why Alfred had stopped himself from doing so. Alfred could have eaten another's heart, but due to reasons that went unnamed. Alfred had not done so and the wizard assumed that he would not bring himself to do it.

So either way, it was a bad ending to this fairytale.

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Eventually the two went back to their usual routine, and acted as though what happened weeks ago had never happened. Or they try to anyway. Alfred flinched whenever Arthur would get close to him, for fear that he would turn wild and attack the Brit again. Possibly succeeding in the next attempt as well.

Arthur was precious to him.

There, he admitted it.

Alfred lowered his gaze, watching the flames burn away the firewood. Sitting in complete silence before Arthur decided to speak up, with the words that Alfred would never want to hear from the Brit.

"Eat my heart, Alfred,"


End file.
